


Last Mistake

by yikesmontana



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Depression, M/M, Suicide, enjoy this word vomit, sad kuroo smh, wow this is sad, wowza i was in a bad mood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2016-04-26
Packaged: 2018-06-04 14:03:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6661471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yikesmontana/pseuds/yikesmontana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kozume Kenma didn't want to die.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Last Mistake

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bulla124](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bulla124/gifts).



> hahaha i love vent writing  
> y am i such trash

Kozume Kenma didn't want to die.

You’d think, with all the shit running through his mind like barbed wires, wrapping around every stray bit of positivity and squeezing it until it bled out, that death would be a comforting thought. Sweet release. Escape.

No, Kenma didn't want death. 

He had a disgustingly privileged life, he knew that. His family wasn't picture perfect, but really, was any family? The sickly sweet, stock photo-esque families that came in picture frames were make-believe. But Kenma’s family was kind and accepting. He was happy with them. 

He had friends too. A whole volleyball team of people who cared for him. His best friend, Shouyou. His most important person, Kuroo. 

Yet, even with all that, his mind insisted on fucking everything over, twisting the way he saw things. Turning all the kindness into pity. Making him question if anyone would even care if he were to accidentally get hit by a car and die. 

Some days he would have fun with his friends. He’d text Shouyou and hang out with Kuroo and laugh at practice. He’d feel warm and loved and happy, in his own quiet way. 

Other days he’d want to tear his eyes out when seeing Kuroo laugh while talking to Yaku, or smash his phone to bits whenever Shouyou mentioned Kageyama. 

After the thought, Kenma would turn all of that petty bitterness and jealousy into sick hatred at himself. 

_ You’re so fucking needy and disgusting. You always need attention, don’t you? Whiny little brat. You have such a perfect life and you still have the audacity to feel upset?  _

In truth, Kozume Kenma just really, really hated himself. 

Which he handled on his own. He was an expert at acting like nothing was wrong. Nobody could tell when he got the urge to rip his own vile heart out of his chest. 

It all got worse when he realized that he loved Kuroo. 

Friends weren't supposed to crave each other’s touch. Kenma’s skin wasn’t supposed to tighten in the most delicious way whenever Kuroo grazed him, it wasn’t supposed to burn whenever he felt Kuroo looking at him. 

Kenma knew though that Kuroo would never feel the same way. 

Kuroo was a ladies man. He was the tall, dark and mysterious ace of the volleyball team. He flirted with anything that moved. Except Kenma.

Kenma didn’t mind. He was fine with staying in the shadows and pining as long as Kuroo didn't leave him. Because really, Kenma was just afraid of being alone.

When he was alone, he would think. He would think to the point where the pessimistic, self-hatred-filled thoughts pushed him to tears, tearing rough sobs out of his chest and cutting off his air and weakening his legs. 

All the while he cried, his mind would repeat a mantra of  _ selfish, annoying, troublesome, unimportant, unnecessary _ . Kenma Kozume just didn’t want to  _ feel  _ anymore. 

And so he developed a habit. With every drag of a blade across his thighs, Kenma would feel brief release. Distraction. A way to feel something other than self-hatred and bitterness. He knew it was weak, he knew it was unhealthy, but at the times where he was home alone and filled to the brim with so many feelings, he felt overwhelmed to the point where he wanted to crawl out of his own skin. To disappear. He would curl up on the floor and imagine just not  _ being _ . 

Kenma didn’t think that many people would notice. It would hurt his parents and maybe Kuroo and Shouyou would shed a few tears, but Kenma was convinced that they would live on, per usual. After all, Kenma wasn’t important. He wasn’t worthy. 

Even with all of that running through his mind in a toxic cycle, Kenma still didn’t want to die. He would (selfishly (again)) miss Kuroo and Shouyou and his parents. He’d miss playing volleyball and his video games. He didn’t want to hurt anyone he loved, even if he was convinced that their pain would be temporary. 

Which is why when he found himself bleeding heavily from his arms, he knew he’d fucked up  _ bad _ and panicked. 

He hadn’t noticed when he moved from his thighs to his wrists. 

He also hadn’t clued in when he sliced over a vein. 

It wasn’t until his blubbering sobs had quieted down that he heard the blood drip, drip, dripping into the sink, felt it running down his arms, gathering at his elbows and falling onto his feet, the smell filling the air of the bathroom. 

When all of that settled in, Kenma found himself gripping the edge of the sink, watching blood stain everything crimson and sobbing again.

He couldn’t breathe. His vision was a haze of red. His body felt fuzzy. 

He started to relax, thinking of how easy death would be. No more hurting. No more worrying.

His parents would move on. Shouyou had other friends. Kuroo would surely have no trouble finding somebody to take Kenma’s place. 

Kuroo. With his crooked smile and his messy hair and his dorky laugh and muscles.

_ Kuroo. _

_ I don’t want to leave you, Kuroo.  _

But it was too late. 

Kenma’s legs buckled. His head thunked against the sink and Kenma heard a grotesque  _ crack  _ before he blanked out completely. 

 

Kozume Kenma woke up in a hospital bed. 

He was alone in the room, lying on the stark white bed. The room was quiet, save the  _ whooshing  _ and beeping of machines. 

Kenma sat up groggily, rubbing his eyes and standing, surprised to find himself feeling weightless. 

He then realized that he should have had wires in his skin. 

Kenma looked back down at the bed to find his comatose body, wrapped in bandages and nearly translucent.

Surprisingly, Kenma didn’t freak out.  _ It’s like those out of body experiences,  _ he thought,  _ I just have to wait to wake up.  _

It took two more hours for somebody to show up. 

It was his mother and father, huddled close together. His mother was crying into his father’s shirt. Kenma felt guilt tug at his heart. 

“Oh, Kenma,” she cried suddenly, grabbing Kenma’s limp hand. Ghost Kenma felt a faint tingling on his skin. “Oh, my baby, why did you try to leave us? I’m sorry, Kenma!”

Kenma flinched. He wanted to scream at her, to tell her that he was still here, that it was just an accident and that he would wake up. He knew it wouldn't work though. He knew how this type of thing went.

His parents left the room about an hour later, still weepy and upset. Kenma rubbed his hands over his face, wishing he could cry. He honestly hadn’t meant to nearly kill himself. Now that it had happened, he just wanted to be back in his body. 

A few more hours passed. Kenma watched his own frail body, seeing it breathe only because of the machines he was hooked up to. Bandages wrapped around his head, the front stained lightly with red. 

Kenma decided that when he woke up, he was going to burn every red thing that he owned. 

 

Kuroo visited sometime later. 

Kenma jumped when the door opened, his heart immediately clenching and tears filling his eyes.

Kuroo’s hair was messy and unstyled, flopping in every direction and obviously unwashed. Eyebags worse than Kenma’s own were paired with tired eyes cast downwards. He was panting, eyes wide, his mouth gaping at Kenma’s body in the hospital bed. Kenma watched as Kuroo sat gently beside Kenma’s bed, hesitant and so un-Kuroo like. 

“Um, hey. The doctor said that you… you could probably hear me. So I thought I’d… I’d talk…” Kuroo started, cutting off with a choked noise. He ducked his head, his hand darting out to grab Kenma’s own. When Kuroo looked up again, tears were running down his face. “H-He said that you t-tried to… to kill yourself, Kenma. That c-can’t be true, right?!”

_ No, no, I didn't mean to _ , Kenma wanted to scream.  _ I’m sorry, I want to go back, please please don’t cry because of me, you don’t need me.  _

“I c-can’t believe that you’re leaving me,” Kuroo sobbed. Kenma could only watch as Kuroo curled up in his chair, clenching Kenma’s hand with a steel grip. 

“I should have t-told you, Kenma. I’m s-sorry I didn’t see you struggle, I-I can’t…” Kuroo gasped out between sobs, leaning forward to brush at Kenma’s greasy, two-toned hair. 

Kenma was forced to watch as his love cried beside his comatose body, unable to help or comfort him. He decided that this was worse than dying.

 

Over the course of a week, the rest of Nekoma visited in small groups. A few of them cried. Lev was utterly wrecked. Yaku tried to stay strong, but broke down halfway through the visit. By the end of the week, flowers were piled up in Kenma’s hospital room to the point where they were being kept on the floor. 

On the weekend, Shouyou visited. 

He entered the room shyly, like a timid kitten. He was deflated, so unlike his usual, vibrant self that Kenma shivered. 

“K-Kenma,” was all Shouyou managed to stutter before collapsing in a heap of strangled cries. Kenma himself was aching, kneeling down beside the boy, his hands passing straight through Shouyou’s trembling form. 

“P-Please do-don’t l-leave,” he choked, standing on shaking feet and sitting in the same chair Kuroo had. “I have s-so much more to sh-show you, p-please.”

_ I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I want to go back, let me go back please.  _

 

The second week was uneventful. More people visited and cried. Nurses checked on him and changed his IV. Kuroo and his parents visited the most. Kenma could see Kuroo texting Shouyou every day, updating the younger boy on Kenma’s health. 

It was in the third week that Kenma noticed a change. 

People slowed down with their visits. The nurses came into his room less often. Kuroo and his parents cried more. 

Halfway through the third week, all of Nekoma visited in one day. 

They each came in individually, holding Kenma’s hands and saying a few words. 

Kenma had a bad feeling. 

It wasn’t until Shouyou showed up that Kenma  _ really  _ knew something was wrong. It was a school day. Shouyou should have been in class.

“You’re my best friend, Kenma. I’ll never forget you, yeah?” Shouyou said through his tears, resting his forehead on Kenma’s hand. 

_ You don’t have to because i’m coming back. I’m not dead, it was an accident, wait for me, _ Kenma yelled silently. 

Shouyou left and Kuroo came in. He sat on the edge of the bed this time, hands tracing patterns on Kenma’s cheeks. Ghost Kenma felt a faint trace of Kuroo’s fingers and shivered. 

“I love you. Did you know that? I’ve loved you since we were young,” Kuroo admitted bitterly and Kenma froze. 

_ He loves me, he loves me he lovesmehelovesmehe– _

“If only I’d have told you sooner. Maybe we could have had a chance, Kenma.”

_ What do you mean? When I wake up we can start again. It’s not too late, what are you– _

Kuroo leaned over and pressed his lips lightly to Kenma’s. He felt the heat even out of his body. It was warm and sweet and sorrowful and perfect. 

Kuroo stood up and left. His parents came in, not even bothering to sit. His mom played with his hair idly. His father placed a hand on his shoulder. 

“I’m sorry that I wasn’t there for you,” his father whispered, a tear rolling down his cheek and falling onto Kenma. His mom was doing her best to swallow her sobs, to stay strong, and it was simply tearing away at Kenma’s heart. 

“My Kenma, my only son. I love you, so, so much. I’ll see you again,” she cried and Kenma started to panic. 

The doctor walked in, Shouyou and Kuroo following. They stood by his parents, watching on with red eyes and sniffles and pain buried deep within their faces. 

“Are you ready, Mr. and Mrs. Kozume?” The doctor asked, and Kenma felt tears finally spill from his eyes. 

_ No! Please, please I’m still here! I’m too young, I can’t leave yet! I don’t want to die, I never wanted to die! _

His mother nodded solemnly, burying her face in his father’s chest again. Shouyou let out a cry and Kuroo put his arm around the small boy’s shoulders, tears falling silently from his eyes. 

The doctor flicked a switch on the machines and the whooshing noises stopped. 

Kenma was suffocating. 

_ Please! I can’t leave, I’m still here! I’m alive! Don’t do this, please, Kuroo loves me, I don’t want to leave! Mom, dad, please, listen to me! _

“Is it... d-done?” Kuroo said, and the doctor shook his head. 

“He’s leaving now,” the man explained. Kenma felt his heartbeat going wild, saw his hands flickering in and out of view. His body was starting to struggle, his chest movements slowing down.

“Bye, Kenma,” Shouyou sniffled. Kenma shook his head violently, cries of protest falling from his lips faster than the tears that were pouring from his eyes. 

_ No, I don’t want to die, please, I can’t– _

“I love you, Kenma.”


End file.
